Letters from the Grave
by The Last Daydreamer
Summary: When you seem to be the border between the dead and the living. . .well, admittedly, it can as irritating as it is depressing. Nico di Angelo isn't too pleased by this. At all. Turned into a oneshot.


_A series of oneshots, set in the same universe and eventually come together into a plot. Mostly about Nico's many. . .adventures as a son of Hades, and his interactions with the dead and the living. Takes place between The Last Olympian and The Lost Hero. CC is welcome (I have a terrible time writing Nico, and humor isn't normally my genre, but of course critiques about other things are just as welcome). And most other things._

_Yes, there's an OC. She happens to be a six-year-old OC._

_I don't own anything._

* * *

_Letters to the Grave_

_By The Last Daydreamer_

* * *

"Nico, can you stop looking at me like that?"

Silena Beauregard frowned, confused at the strange expression on Nico's face. He was standing in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably in the bright lights. She'd angled the lighting so it shined on whoever entered, considering it friendly to make it seem as if even her house was focusing on its visitors.

"Don't you think it's kind of weird to tell all your loved ones that you're dead but happy using pink paper with lace and roses all over it?"

Silena waved a hand airily. "They're _geraniums. _Don't get me wrong—I adore roses, but they're so overused." She paused, her face scrunching up (then relaxed, realizing it might cause wrinkles). "Oh, yeah. Weird. No, not really. I don't want to make them feel all gloomy over my death!"

Nico stared in a way that made it clear he wasn't checking her out. "It seems kind of. . .morbid." _Like a very ironic joke._

"Aw, but Nico," she protested, folding the paper in half, "they know I'm not morbid! Besides, this is Elysium-grade paper. They'll _love _it." She paused to squeal in delight. "Isn't it cute?"

"Um, okay," he said slowly, trying to process this. Changing the subject (fangirl-worthy paper was just not his forte), he asked, "Why'd you ask me to come here?"

"To deliver this letter, of course!" Silena said. "Here, take it. Just put it in the post office mailbox thingimajig." She was clearly too used to Iris-messaging to actually mail letters.

"I don't normally do this stuff," he said. "I mean. . ." The unfinished sentence hung awkwardly in the air.

A beat of silence, and Silena said, "Oh, do you expect me to tip you? Wait, do I tip before or after? I'm sorry! Here, take a drachma—"

"What? No!" he said. "I'm not a bellboy." _And I don't deliver letters, _he added silently.

Silena blinked, seeming to hold back tears, and he instantly felt guilty. Her eyes widened like one of those anime puppies he'd seen in passing (but more realistic). "Nico, _please. _Just this once? I'll give you anything!"

He hesitated.

"Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeeeease—"

"Okay!" he snapped, then regretted the outburst. Silena squealed again and blew a kiss into the air, but he barely reacted as she stood up and shoved the letter into his hand. He stared at it, hoping he could find some sort of bag that didn't resemble a mailman's, as even the envelope was hot pink with. . .were those bunnies? He couldn't just carry that through the streets, unless he could shadow travel into some remote location no one lived at, except for a single post office.

"Thank you so much!" Silena said, hugging him. He stiffened slightly, and she said, "I'm going to have teatime with Charlie now. Well, me having tea and him hammering away at whatever he's working on. Bye!"

She flickered momentarily, the only real hint she was a ghost, and swept out the door.

* * *

Nico realized if he stuffed the envelope in his pocket, Silena might get upset, since it would become bent and wrinkled. (He wondered why he'd noticed. Hopefully just Silena's influence.) He didn't want to hide the letter under his jacket the whole time, clutching at it to make sure it didn't fall out. The only bag he could think of carrying through the streets of Los Angeles (he couldn't think of any remote locations with post offices) was a backpack. Was that really a bag? So he shadow traveled into the nearest store—and realized he didn't have any mortal money.

This was a rather stupid move of him; he usually kept at least a few dollars in his pocket. Not that a few dollars would have covered the entire expense of the backpack, as far as he knew, but it was _something._

"Hello?" a voice said, pronouncing it as _Hewwo? _Nico looked down to see a little girl with a teddy bear, about six years old.

"My name is Emily," the girl said, lifting her chin up. "What's yours?"

"Uh. . .Nico," he said, deciding it wouldn't do any harm to give away that tiny bit of information.

"Cool," Emily replied. "I only said that because that's what all the teachers at my school ask if they don't know me. That's a really nice sword."

Nico followed her eyes, seeing that she was looking intently at his Stygian iron sword. _How can she see that? Of course. She must be a clearsighted mortal._ Normally, this would be of some interest to Nico, but it didn't help his situation in the least.

"I have this super ugly backpack," Emily said, lifting her chin even higher. She wrinkled her nose. "If you give me your sword, I'll give you my backpack. I wanted the teddy bear one, but my mommy said I should have this boring thing that advertises Coca Cola because it was on sale."

_Well, I could do worse than Coca Cola advertisements. _Then, _I can't give up my sword, obviously._ "Sorry, but I can't give it to you."

Emily sniffled, staring at him with huge dark eyes. What was with all the anime puppy eyes lately? Didn't it hurt to stretch out their eyes like that? "Do you have anything else cool? People don't believe me when I see things like your sword, but that's because they 'lack imagination.' That's what Jenny says, anyway. I remember last year, I saw this huge black dog the size of a truck in New York City."

Nico silently cursed Percy to the pits of Tartarus. He was getting a _little _too careless with Mrs. O'Leary, unless a hellhound her size had been in NYC at the time.

"I'll show you a trick if you give me your backpack," he offered. Emily agreed, making a quick trip to an aisle and back. She gave him a small black backpack that he had to adjust the straps so it fit him. Putting the letter inside, he asked if she knew where the post office was.

"Yeah! Um, I think so."

That didn't sound too reassuring.

* * *

_Two Seconds Later_

"EEEEK! THIS IS AWESOME!" Emily screamed, clinging to Nico's hand. It looked like her skin would fall off.

"You sound kind of hysterical. It's just shadow travel," Nico said, stumbling slightly.

* * *

_One Minute Later_

"Did you bring me to the ice cream parlor on purpose?" he accused, looking around him. Several considerably young children stared at him, wondering why a rather gloomy-looking boy nowhere near their ages was holding the hand of a girl who hadn't registered she was _supposed to stop screaming._

"No, I swear I thought the post office looked like this!" Emily said, finally lowering her voice. She turned to the guy at the counter. "But I've got some money. Let's have ice cream! What flavor do you like?"

* * *

_Three Minutes Later_

"This isn't the post office. This is the movie theater. With the lights dark. And a PG-13 movie playing. It does not even remotely resemble a post office."

"Oh. Sorry. But I always wanted to watch a PG-13 movie!" Emily said, smiling at him. She plopped down in a seat and began eating the popcorn leftover in a box next to her, which was not the best idea when it came to hygiene.

"Your mom might be mad." Nico hoped Emily would never tell her mother.

"Nah, she'll probably already be mad 'cause I vanished."

"Wait, what? Why didn't I think of that?!"

* * *

_Ten Minutes Later_

They finally arrived at the post office. Except then Nico was so tired from the shadow travel, he fell asleep.

"Oopsies," Emily said, only half-sorry. "Hmm, I'll wait it out." She dragged him to a chair, or at least tried to. He was a lot heavier than she'd expected. Then she finished her ice cream, which she hadn't dropped during the shadow travel and gotten her shirt stained because of it, unlike Nico.

* * *

_Three Hours Later_

"Oh, good, he's finally awake," a voice said. Nico mumbled and turned over, only to fall to the floor; he'd been sleeping on a couch, and not the most comfortable one, either.  
The owner of the voice didn't wait for him to recover, instead reading off a series of questions.

"Mr. Nico. . .um, we are unaware of your last name—did you kidnap a young girl named Emily Waters?"

"If so, why did you kidnap the girl?"

"Did you tell her to spend her money needlessly on ice cream?"

"Is it true you broke into a movie theater with her?"

"Do you know what she means by 'shadow travel?'"

"I have to deliver the letter to Silena!" Nico said suddenly, sitting up. He looked around, confused; there were too-bright lights in a somewhat dusty room, and aside from the couch he'd been sleeping on, there was a table with two chairs.

Oh, wonderful. It seemed to be a police station.

"We searched the backpack you seem to have stolen from Emily Waters," the voice continued. He saw a stern-looking man at the table. "There was nothing in it." That was a relief. Probably because Silena had put some kind of magic on it that only the clearsighted could get through.

"Ms. Waters insists there was an envelope in it, and we allowed her to place it in her mailbox for someone to mail. It seems most suspicious; people suspect that she has faced trauma that's damaged her brain. Have you—"

The interrogator realized Nico had quite literally vanished into the shadows.

* * *

Silena was cheerfully preparing more tea for her next teatime (she wasn't sure why; she just enjoyed it, even if she didn't actually have to drink tea as one of the dead) when Nico appeared in her kitchen. Facedown.

"Oh, goody," Silena said. "How'd it go?"

"Just fine," Nico replied, not getting up. Silena paused to glance at him in mild concern, then decided it must have been a little tiring. Poor him.

"Here," she said. "Have some tea!"

". . .No thanks."

"Cookies?"

"No." Nico was still not getting up, and he had just refused _cookies. _Silena wondered what was going on.

"Oh. Okay, then. Still, I'm sure you did a really good job! Admittedly, I didn't know if the letter will actually be sent, since mortals can't see it and all. There aren't many clearsighted mailmen. Or mailwomen."

Silence.

"What was the point of it, then?"

"I just wanted to have a reason to give you tea and cookies, that's all. I wasn't sure if you'd normally accept it otherwise, but you'd really want a reward if you did that." She smiled. "You're always so gloomy all the time! Tea and cookies will cheer you right up."

Nico responded by slamming his head against the floor. Silena realized he was unconscious.

* * *

_EDIT: this has been turned into a oneshot. I'm sorry._


End file.
